


In His Arms

by CoffeeQuill



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives Except Bilbo, Bilbo dies AU, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Bilbo, King Fili, King Thorin, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Mourning characters, Oneshot, The Hobbit - Freeform, Thorin Feels, Will change ending for longer fic, bagginshield, shortfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-17 00:46:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4646124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoffeeQuill/pseuds/CoffeeQuill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Azog captures Bilbo instead of Fili, Bilbo never gets to tell Thorin how sorry he is.</p><p>Likewise, Thorin never gets to say the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In His Arms

**Author's Note:**

> I had just watched BotFA in a livestream so I poured my feels into this.
> 
> Also I'm going to use the same plot but where Bilbo survives the stab and fall, and that will be a full fic.

_Below is a oneshot au where Bilbo is in Fili’s place and dies at Ravenhill. Inspired from a BotfA livestream with lots of feels. I’m going to do an AU where Bilbo again replaces Fili but lives and will be posted on Ao3._

It was a mistake.

He should have listened.

It’s too late, he thinks, as he dangles from Azog’s clutches.

Tears fill his eyes, his heart is racing in his chest. He’s never felt so afraid and so numb at the same time; he can only stare down at the distance between him in the ground. He’s trembling, curling his toes.

_Hobbits were never meant to be high, after all._

“ _Bilbo!”_

* * *

 

It’s Kili. Kili sounds so broken, his voice cracking as he screams. Bilbo struggles to focus his gaze; Fili is holding his brother’s arm, holding him back. Dwalin is looking away.

Thorin.

_Thorin._

The king is paralyzed, immobile as he stares at the dangling hobbit. Tears flood Bilbo’s eyes. “Th-Thorin,” he manages, before coughing up blood; it comes out as a pained whimper.

Thorin drops his sword.

_You idiot._

_“_ Run,” he whispers, clenching and unclenching his fists. “Please...  _It’s a trap!”_

Azog gives him a hard shake and he lets out a cry of pain, his injuries being jostled and only oozing more blood and puss. His clothes are sticking to him and he wants to scream in pain as the blade presses further into his skin, twisting at the small of his back.

The dwarves’ vision shifts just enough. Out of the corner of his eye, Bilbo sees the sneering orc step forward with the long pole; hanging at the end is the mithril shirt, like a flag of victory.

The blood loss is becoming worse. He knows he’s slipping into shock.

Dwalin is speaking. Kili lets out a cry of “NO!” but Fili is pulling him, dragging him away as Dwalin follows.

Thorin doesn’t move. Thorin is just staring at him.

_Run. Please. Don’t die because of me._

“Thorin,” he gasps out, struggling to hold onto consciousness. “Please...  _You have to run! It’s all a trap!”_

He still doesn’t move. Bilbo only lets out a sob, closing his eyes tightly as tears fall.

_Just kill me. Stop dragging this out. Just kill me._

Azog snarls in his ear. He knows this is the end. The rusted blade pushes in deeper, he sobs again.

“ _I love you!”_ He screams out. His last words might as well be professing his feelings.

The blade slices through him, he doesn’t have the energy to scream. He lets out a shaky breath and whimpers in pain. He feels the sensation of falling, of the wind whipping past him as he descends. Thorin screams.

He’s unconscious as soon as he hits the stone.

\----

Thorin is already sprinting across the ice before Bilbo lands.

He’s crying already, falling to his knees and sliding through snow and blood beside his hobbit’s corpse. With a sob, he’s checking his pulse, gathering the broken burglar into his arms as tears stream down his face.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, holding him close against his chest with an iron grip. His tears fall on Bilbo’s coat and he’s whispering the apologies against the hobbit’s cold cheek, standing with him in his arms. “I’m so sorry for doing this to you...”

 _I love you._  His last words.

The words Thorin had never been brave enough to say.

Bilbo is lifeless in his arms, He’s sobbing desperately, burying his face in the hobbit’s chest. He wants him to move, to make a sound, but he’s gone.

_He’s gone, and I never told him how sorry I am._

_How wrong I was throughout this entire journey._

_How much I love him._

“Thorin...”

He looks up and Dwalin is standing a short distance away on the ice, his eyes red with tears. “We have to go,” he says. “Before Azog comes.”

Thorin clutches Bilbo close, breathes in his gentle scent that still clings to him. Then he follows Dwalin, running across the ice.

Fili and Kili are waiting at Ravenhill’s steps, and seeing Bilbo in Thorin’s arms, Kili sobs and collapses. Fili is silently crying, trying to pull Kili back up, but it seems the brunet has lost all his will.

“This mission is doomed,” Dwalin says. He wipes away his tears. “We have to get him back to the mountain.”

“Kee,” Fili pleads. “Get up...”

Thorin only starts to walk down the steps, clutching the hobbit close and letting his head rest on his shoulder. Overcome with grief, he begins to make his way to Erebor.

\----

He’s buried on the mountainside.

It’s a miserable ceremony. Kili had wound up with a broken leg in the return to Erebor and emotionally can’t handle it, so Fili stays briefly to pay his respects before returning to his distraught brother. Each Company member had crafted something to bury their hobbit with; a nice carving, a shiny wooden pipe, a picture.

Thorin has something else to give.

As they lower the casket into the ground, the Arkenstone is resting on the hobbit’s chest, lighting up the inside with color.

\----

Things change after the funeral. Not just in Erebor, but in everyone.

Thorin rules as king for a few years before handing the crown down to Fili, who rules now with just as much wisdom and strength, beloved by Erebor as he deserves. His nickname is the Lion King, and Thorin can’t be more proud.

Kili is the opposite.

Some say that certain dwarves just can’t handle war. Can’t handle a personal loss. That’s the only way to describe what happened to Kili.

He just... drifted away. He sleeps alone in a chamber in the royal wing but it’s devoid of all decorations, of anything he could hurt himself with.

He screams at night. He writes in made-up languages on his skin. He mutters at random and talks to himself. He’s forced to get up and talk to a counselor every few days but he sits there and stares at the walls.

One day, he stops eating.

“I can’t get anything out of him,” Fili says bitterly, storming out of the room one night. “He’s been doing the same shit for years and I’m fucking sick of it!”

It’s sad to see how their friendship and brotherhood has crumbled, with their new differences keeping them apart. Thorin sighs and walks into the darkened room, where only a single candle burns beside the bed.

Kili is looking ahead at the wall, sitting up with his knees against his chest, almost unaffected by the talk with Fili. “I don’t want to talk,” he says, tapping his fingers on the blanket.

Thorin takes a deep breath, seeing the new writing on the back of his hand. He should take away the ink and quill but it’s meant for him to write, as part of his therapy. “Why have you stopped eating?”

“Not hungry,” Kili mutters, closing his eyes and laying on his back.

“You’re not sleeping, either.”

“I see him.”

Thorin pauses, then sits on the bed beside him. “Bilbo?” He asks quietly. The name has become a difficult topic in the last three years.

“In my dreams,” Kili says quietly, looking up at him. “At counseling. Nothing makes him go away.” He wrings his hands. “He doesn’t go away. I can’t make him.”

“That doesn’t mean you stop eating.” Thorin smooths his hair away from his face. “Your mother is worried sick. Fili is too, even if he doesn’t show it.”

“You don’t understand,” Kili whimpers. “No one does. I’m not mad...”

“You’re just having trouble.” Thorin lays down beside him and wraps an arm around him. “Every dream I have, he’s there. Every dream it’s the same thing... Him falling. Sometimes I think that if I had just caught him...”  _Maybe he could have survived that wound._

Kili sniffles and presses closer. “Other than Fili, he was the only one who really listened... Everyone else just saw me as some child.”

“You’re not. You’re all grown.”

Kili smiles, but then quickly his eyes dart towards the corner of the room. Thorin sees nothing. “Are you seeing him?”

“He’s just standing there,” Kili whispers, and now he sounds afraid, curling into Thorin’s side. “M-Make him go away, uncle...”

“I can’t.” Thorin holds him closer.

_But I’ll protect you like I didn’t protect him._

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr ~ precious-durins.tumblr.com


End file.
